


Sinner's Intoxication

by PumpkinChair



Series: Temptation [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Biting, Body Worship, Come Eating, First attempt at smut, Implied Somnophilia, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Obsessive Behavior, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Prostate Massage, Scratching, Seven Deadly Sins, Sort Of, Unhealthy Relationships, Wet & Messy, au by marsipan_art on twitter, chan as gluttony, gluttony is kinda gross, implied autocannibalism, its about the relationship, mentioned blood, minho as sloth, the sex isnt important, theyre in love???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:14:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25079719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinChair/pseuds/PumpkinChair
Summary: Gluttony is more than just eating. Gluttony is an overindulgence, a desire for more of something not needed. It's the power associated with having a sum of something with no intentions to share. Gluttony can span beyond food and material goods; it can be the all consuming desire to keep someone away from the world, for your own benefit and power. It can be looking someone in the eye and telling themno sorry, I don't have thatwhen it's right in your hand because you want to feel superior. Gluttony is more than collecting and consuming, it's about the power the hoard gives you. Gluttony is a perversion of gain. Gluttony does not seek to take from the less fortunate like greed does―rather seeks to keep all for itself―nor does it hold envy for other's possessions. Gluttony can be lustful or lazy or angry. Gluttony can be prideful too. Gluttony is a monopoly: unforgiving, all consuming, untouchable.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Series: Temptation [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817299
Comments: 6
Kudos: 117





	Sinner's Intoxication

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of the 7Sins au by Marsipan_art on twitter! you should definitely check out their art its amazing!
> 
> I've never written smut in my life and i hope none of my irls find this bc its flithy but also kinda vague
> 
> very unsexy but enjoy nevertheless

Gluttony is more than just eating. Gluttony is an overindulgence, a desire for more of something not needed. It's the power associated with having a sum of something with no intentions to share. Gluttony can span beyond food and material goods; it can be the all consuming desire to keep someone away from the world, for your own benefit and power. It can be looking someone in the eye and telling them _no sorry, I don't have that_ when it's right in your hand because you want to feel superior. Gluttony is more than collecting and consuming, it's about the power the hoard gives you. Gluttony is a perversion of gain. Gluttony does not seek to take from the less fortunate like greed does―rather seeks to keep all for itself―nor does it hold envy for other's possessions. Gluttony can be lustful or lazy or angry. Gluttony can be prideful too. Gluttony is a monopoly: unforgiving, all consuming, untouchable. 

Sloth is more than laziness. Sloth is taking the credit of another’s hard work. Sloth is contributing nothing, doing nothing, saying nothing, but accepting the reward. Sloth is cunning and manipulative, coy and petty. Sloth will make any excuse to not do work, will twist words and actions to convince someone else to do the bidding. Sloth is empty smiles and emptier promises. Sloth is sleeping past a due date and offering no apology. To be afflicted with sloth is to abandon all sense of community. Sloth thinks outside of the whole for the individual, stepping over people to reach their own goals off of others' effort. Sloth is a soft whisper: _don’t you want to do this for me?_ or _you’re much more talented at this than me._ Sloth is the ultimate cult manipulation. Sloth can be gluttonous or greedy, envious and boastful, but with a sinister silence underneath, with a close lipped smile that's colder than ice.

Like many of the souls befallen with the sin of gluttony, the sin itself has a particular thing he hoards amongst all others. It could be called his jewel, his prized possession amongst all of his collection. He’s possessive, obsessive, consumed with his jewel, the sin of sloth. Sloth is the prettiest being Gluttony has ever laid eyes on with his sleepy smiles and unkempt appearance. He had the softest honey eyes, big and puffy from the countless hours he sleeps. His hair is always a mess and colored a creamy orange. He walks around with a thick woolen blanket draped over his shoulders and nary something underneath, the chains shackling his feet together only aid the shuffling way he walks. It’s easy to lead him around by the chain clasped around his neck when he’s too lazy to open his eyes enough to watch where he’s going.

Sloth is easy going and unopposed to Gluttony's obsessive presence, the constant loom over his shoulder at every hour and the extra weight in his bed when there wasn't one before. Sloth lets Gluttony take, and indulge in all things that Sloth does, because he, too, reaps the benefits. He is happiest when someone else is doing work for him, and more often than not, it’s Gluttony at his beck and call. They feed into each other, indulge their sins together whenever they can. It’s easy for Sloth to let Gluttony steal kisses, touches, to fuck him when he needs more, when he’s starved for everything Sloth.

“I’m hungry.” It always starts this way. Gluttony chews idly on the tips of his fingers now that his plate is empty, leaving deep indents from his teeth but thankfully not tearing through the flesh. It had taken a day for the appendages to grow back last time and he had been unable to stuff his face to his full potential. He had been so hungry that whole time. Gluttony tosses his plate to the growing pile next to him, the click of ceramic lost under the soft fabric it landed on.

Sloth gives no indication he heard him, snuggled deeply into his blankets. They’re in his room as they always seemed to be because Gluttony couldn’t leave him alone and Sloth liked to sleep the day away if he could. His room is filled to the brim with blankets and pillows piled up high enough to hide his floor and the outline of his bed. Sloth peaks his head out from under his favorite wool blanket to stare down at Gluttony, blinking bleary eyes to adjust to the light. He shakes his head to knock his sunglasses down onto the bridge of his nose so he wouldn't strain his eyes.

“Then leave,” Sloth drawls as he always does in response, knowing already how this conversation and situation were going to go. “I’m sure Our Majesty has plenty for you to eat in the dining hall.” He speaks with heavy lethargy, cheek pressed to his plethora of pillows and eyes already starting to close again.

“I’m hungry _now,”_ Gluttony insists, abandoning his perch on the floor to crawl his way across blankets and cushions, tripped up a few times when the foothold he thought was stable gave way under him. He didn’t even flinch when he slammed his shoulder into Sloth’s bed frame, instead hauling himself on top. He hovers over the familiar lump of Sloth’s body and leans down to nip none too gently at his ear. Persistent hands push his blanket down, exposing his warm skin to the air and Gluttony’s wandering lips.

Sloth waits for a moment to see just what kind of hunger his companion was complaining about this time. If he agreed too readily, it could mean Gluttony wanted to _eat him_ and not in the way they both enjoyed. Sloth holds a hand to the sin’s chest, ready to push him off should Gluttony sink his teeth into his neck like last time, but his worries never come to fruition. Gluttony’s lips are sticky when they pressed to his cheek, no doubt from the endless sweets he just consumed. He licks his cheek and neck, right above where the chains were fastened, tasting his skin. Sloth shivers but doesn’t push him away; he rolls onto his back and grips his stupidly printed shirt in his small fist.

Sloth’s skin always tastes sweet and fresh, like first waking up in the morning. He tastes like sleep: tacky, sticky, and warm. Gluttony is addicted to him and his soft sighs, the little huffs of breath when he couldn’t find the energy to speak. Gluttony is addicted to the way his cheeks flushed red like pretty cherries, to his candy red lips and caramel hair. He thinks often about drowning in his breathless moans, in the graceful arch of his spine when Gluttony does something he particularly likes. He thinks about drowning in the warm chocolate of his eyes and the honey dripping from them.

“Do what you like, Channie.” Sloth relinquishes after his brief deliberation, relaxing back into the softness of his bed. Fingers―sticky, hot, wet―glide up his thighs, dipping underneath his equally as stupidly printed boxers with the same barely contained desperation as the lips and teeth working mark after mark into his neck. Gluttony bites too hard to be pleasurable, but it's the blatant want in the action that’s gratifying. Sloth hisses from the blossoms of pain but Gluttony’s tongue soothes the sting before he moves on to a new spot, wanting to taste every inch of his skin. He can’t get enough of petting Sloth’s skin, sleep warm and impossibly supple under his rough hands. He drags his nails down his thighs reverently just to watch him twitch and whine in sweet pain. The red looks like peppermint swirls against his pale skin, pretty and raised on the flesh as if asking for Gluttony to lick them up.

 _Ah, I’m tired._ Sloth opens his eyes long enough to watch Gluttony pull away from the mess he’s made of his neck. There’s drool running down his chin, lips puffy from how hard they were pressed against him. Sloth reaches a hand up to wipe his face, dipping his thumb into Gluttony’s mouth when he brushes his bottom lip. His eyes are so dark, half lidded when they stare back at Sloth, hardened into obsidian, inky and bottomless black. Gluttony wraps his tongue around the thumb in his mouth, flexible like a viper and just as deadly. He sighs like it tastes divine on his tongue and if Sloth isn’t careful he might lose the appendage entirely; he can already feel the press of sharp teeth to his knuckle. He draws away quickly at that but doesn’t miss the way Gluttony’s jaw clenches around nothing. Sloth smears the saliva left behind on Gluttony’s cheek right under the chains on his face before dropping his hand back to his side.

“You’re starving,” It's not a question, rather an observation for something he already knows. Gluttony is always starving, whether it be for food or Sloth’s attention. “Eat.” Sloth demands, letting his body go pliant, thighs spread and arms above his head sacrificial. There’s warmth in Gluttony’s eyes when he leans down to him again, a breath away to whisper his thanks against his lips. It feels like worship, like reverence and gratification that goes beyond agreeing to sex. Sloth smiles, lazy and close lipped, but it's enough. He’s given his permission, now all he has to do is reap the benefits. 

Their first kiss is soft, exploring and reacquainting. Gluttony’s lips are soft but insistent, forcing Sloth’s to part almost immediately for his tongue. He didn’t bother to kiss back or engage him, instead relishing in the drag against the roof of his mouth, the sloppy way Gluttony licks at his lips and teeth. It’s messy and wet, completely one sided as he takes his fill, but it's better this way. Sloth could almost fall back asleep under the press of Gluttony’s lips smacking wetly against his own. It’s a familiar dance where Gluttony leads and Sloth is dragged along by the hand. Gluttony steals the air from his lungs and breathes back into him at the same time. Sloth is drowsy, but he’s held right on the edge of sleep by the warmth pooling in his gut. 

Gluttony wants more; he always wants more. The kisses and bites aren’t enough; he wants to devour him whole, meld Sloth into his body and never let another soul even look at him. It burns him from the inside knowing the other sins get to see and talk to him, to his prized possession. He likes it more when Sloth stays in his room for weeks at a time, in bed and under Gluttony only. They don’t talk much, but they understand each other without it. Gluttony needs Sloth like a fish needs water. It consumes him when they’re apart and he can’t think. He just wants, and wants, and _wants_ him so much all the time. So he takes, and _takes._

It’s not enough to kiss him, to hear his stuttered breaths, to touch him. Gluttony needs so much more. He releases Sloth from the kiss with one last drag of his teeth across his swollen lips, watching how the flesh flashes red then white then red. _Beautiful_ . Gluttony watches his chest rise and fall shallowly, his hands on either side of his ribs to hold him. He’s so skinny from not eating―he lets Gluttony eat all the food on his plate―Gluttony can almost close both hands around him and he wants to try, wants to _squeeze._ He thumbs at his nipples instead, watches a red blush spread down Sloth’s neck and up his face. 

_“Channie.”_ His name, his given name, falls from Sloth’s barely parted lips, sounding like the sweetest sugar and Gluttony feels it wash over him like a physical thing. Warm, _warm;_ the room is so hot, sweltering from Hell’s flames. His ears are buzzing, consumed with the way Sloth calls out to him sweetly with each harsh press of Gluttony’s fingers. He doesn’t know how to truly be gentle, but he wants to try, wants to try, _wants to try._ His mouth joins his hands, lips closing around a nipple to _suck_ and Sloth threads his fingers in Gluttony’s hair with a sigh, holding the black strands tight to keep him in place. The grip around his ribs is bruising, the teeth on his nipple too sharp, the leg pushing between his legs too strong, but Sloth loves it only so that he doesn’t have to actively participate. Gluttony doing all the work feels so much better than anything he could do to his body.

“Minho, _Minho.”_ Gluttony’s voice sounds so broken when he looks up at him again from the middle of his chest, digging in with his teeth to leave a row of marks between his nipples. Sloth indulges him with a lazy smile, a pat to the head. It’s all the encouragement Gluttony needs. He soaks in the barely there affection like the starving man he is, quelled but not satisfied. He needs more, more, _more._ Kisses make their way down his chest, past his stomach with only a brief break to dip into his belly button, before continuing on to his hip until there’s fabric under Gluttony’s mouth and preventing him from reaching skin. He pushes at Sloth’s boxers with shaking hands, desperate to feel him, to uncover more of his skin and desire. He fumbles with the fabric when it can’t go lower than Sloth’s ankles, blocked by the chains binding his feet.

Gluttony’s frustration is quickly forgotten when Sloth drags him up by the hair, redirecting him to his hard cock. It’s curved up towards his stomach, pretty just like the rest of him. The tip is flushed the same red as Sloth’s candy lips and Gluttony salivates, wrapping shaking fingers around the base. Sloth pets his hair, murmuring sleepily about how good he is when Gluttony licks at the head. The precum on his tongue tastes like syrup, his own personal ambrosia, and he can’t get enough. The sound of chains rattling barely reaches Gluttony’s ears when Sloth bends at the knees, throwing his legs over Gluttony’s broad shoulders. The kiss of chains around his neck is a promise, a silent warning. Bite him and lose his head. 

Sloth moans low as Gluttony takes the head of his dick into his mouth, vision hazy and swimming with exhaustion. _I want to sleep._ He thinks to himself, letting his fingers fall away from Gluttony’s hair. There’s a gentle warmth building in his gut, the kind that makes him want to stretch after a good nap. Gluttony is drooling all over his dick every time he bobs his head, _sticky, warm, wet._ It makes the slide easier for his hand, but it's almost too messy to be good. His mouth is pure velvet, tongue silk where it presses up against his cock. Gluttony stares up at him with his big, dark eyes as he drops further down, the head hitting the back of his throat without as much as a flinch. It punches a breathless moan from Sloth’s mouth and his eyes shut, a little embarrassed with the way Gluttony stares at him with unbridled want.

“Chan―” Sloth mumbles because Gluttony isn’t stopping. He fights against the chains pressed to his neck to swallow him down fully, moving his hands to add criss-crossing scratches across his thighs, adding to the ones he left earlier. _“Fuck―”_ Sloth hisses because Gluttony forces his gag reflex, forces his throat to spasm around Sloth’s dick in a pleasurable pulse. He digs his fingers into Sloth’s thighs to keep him still; he hadn’t even noticed his hips were pushing up, up into the wet heat. Gluttony pulled off with a cough but he doesn't seem particularly bothered by the oxygen deprivation. Sloth forces his eyes open to see the obscene mix of drool and precum dripping down his chin, falling into the open scratches in his thighs and burning just so. 

Gluttony smiles and his lips are puffy and red, more so than they are usually. Sloth isn’t giving much of a moment’s rest before Gluttony has his mouth back on him, licking a fat stripe against the underside. Sloth is exhausted, drowsy when Gluttony sucks at the head of his dick and laps up the beading precum like it’s the elixir of life. He feels disconnected from his own body; his vision is doubling and the building pleasure feels far away. It would be so easy to fall asleep right there, to leave Gluttony to handle the situation alone. It’s an appealing idea, but it doesn’t seem like he’ll be given the small lapse in sensations he needs to fall into sweet sleep. It’s a slow crawl towards an orgasm when Gluttony wants to work him slowly despite his desperation. It’s messy, too wet and flawed in technique but Sloth doesn’t mind when pleasure shivers up his spine and down to his toes every time Gluttony sucks hard around him. He knows he’s a less than enthusiastic partner, but Gluttony takes his fill, prodding a slick finger―saliva? Cake icing? It’s anyone’s guess―against Sloth’s rim. It’s a ridiculous idea when he already has Sloth so close to an orgasm anyway, but he pushes in regardless, wiggling against the muscle until it gives. 

It burns, of course it does with little to no aid, but Sloth doesn’t do more than twitch at the intrusion. He’s going to cum soon with the way Gluttony redoubles his efforts to take his cock down his throat and gently―well as gently as Gluttony can manage―squeeze his balls. He can feel his muscles tensing, coiling in on himself as his body shakes, drawn taut as his fingers fist in the sheets around him. Cumming for Sloth is like sinking into a bath, a wave of warmth before his body goes lax, bonelessly melting into the sheets. He can hear himself moan, but it's quiet and rough, drowned out by the wet sound of Gluttony swallowing down his release. He doesn’t let a single drop escape, licking Sloth’s cock clean with fervency. He moans from the taste alone, a glassy sort of drunkenness in his eyes. He’s addicted, lost in everything that is Sloth and teasing him into oversensitivity with his lips and the finger that joins the first to push up against his prostate where he knows it to be. 

Sloth squeezes his legs around Gluttony’s head in warning, but his thighs are shaking too bad to put any pressure. “Enough―” He growls when he struggles to soften under Gluttony’s insistent mouth and hands. He’s so sensitive it hurts, tears pool in his eyes against his will, but he doesn’t have the energy to push him off. Gluttony ignores his minute struggling and rubs his fingers roughly against his prostate.

“Please, Minnie,” Gluttony pouts, voice gravely and deep. He sits up to lean back up near Sloth’s face, dragging his legs with him and folding Sloth in half. He places a kiss on his cheek and it reeks of cum and spit. There’s an audible sound when his lips part from Sloth’s skin and he grimaces, finding the strength to push Gluttony a little bit away. His body _aches_ when Gluttony strokes his dick again, when his fingers mercilessly abuse his prostate to keep him on the edge. It’s too much for him but not enough for Gluttony. Gluttony wants him to come _again_ so close together and Sloth is _tired_ and his skin feels like a live wire. His body is still shaking in aftershocks but he can’t come down from the high, held at the precipice of euphoria against his will. He could force Gluttony off of him, but the energy it would take just isn’t worth the hassle. Gluttony will let him be once he has his fill anyway.

“You’re insatiable,” Sloth bares his teeth but lays his head back regardless, giving in just because he’s weak to anything Gluttony wants. Every touch to his skin feels electric, pain buzzing just beneath the surface and mixing with the pleasure. Sloth feels almost detached from his body when Gluttony edges a third finger against his rim. His face scrunches up in discomfort; Gluttony mumbles empty words of comfort. He’s smiling, enjoying the way Sloth is overly sensitive and stimulated. He enjoys his sleepy frown and the furrow between his eyebrows; he particularly likes the purse of his red, _red_ lips and the way his skin glistens with sweat. There’s an ache in his legs from being bent in half even though his muscles feel like pulled taffy but he can’t stop this. It makes him feel so _good_ that Gluttony would do anything for him, would break him down and overwhelm him without Sloth having to raise a single finger. 

Gluttony seeks out another kiss―simply because he can’t go a second without having his mouth occupied―to swallow Sloth’s moan, shoving his tongue past his parted lips with enough vigor to clink their teeth together. Gluttony’s fingers thrust hard and fast into Sloth’s warm body, rough from the lack of proper lube. His fingers are longer and thicker and reach so much _deeper_ , Sloth feels like he’s going to pass out if Gluttony keeps up the abuse. Sloth can taste himself on Gluttony’s tongue but it doesn’t bother him as much as he expected it to. He bites down when he feels his body beginning to tense up again, muffling Gluttony’s groan in pain. It’s his own fault for constantly stimulating him without mercy. Sloth swallows the blood pooling in his mouth before he lets Gluttony pull back from the kiss, panting like he’s the one being put through torture.

It’s good, it’s good, he’s drowning, drowning, _drowning._ The hand around his dick tightens, slides rough and borderline dry up the length of him. Gluttony teases the head with his thumb at the same moment his fingers jab his prostate again. Sloth’s legs fall off Gluttony’s shoulders when the burning in the back of his thighs becomes too much. He’s shaking all over again, sweat rolling back from his temples to dampen his hair when he throws his head back, spine arching up, up into the hands torturing him. His moans sound broken to his own ears, a high-pitched whine that stutters with his breath. 

“You’re so close, Minho.” Gluttony says above him. There’s smugness in his voice and awe, undoubtedly pleased that Sloth reacts to his touch so well. It hurts, it _hurts._ But it’s _so good._ Sloth trembles when Gluttony picks up the pace of his fingers again, working them quickly and efficiently in time with the stroke of his hand, leading Sloth along until he has no choice but to cum again. It feels like he’s been punched in the gut when it hits and all the air in his body leaves in a wheeze, eyes rolling back into his head. He’s clawing at the sheets, spasming, babbling and cursing, and then nothing. Nothing. Black. Quiet.

He must have blacked out for just a little while, because the next time Sloth opens his eyes, Gluttony is sitting beside him with a plate of cookies in his hands. Sloth drags his eyes over him lazily before rolling back over to finish his nap like he hadn’t been interrupted in the first place. At least Gluttony had the decency to clean him up afterwards, though he’s sure there was nothing halfway _decent_ about it. Sloth curls up under his favorite wool blanket, finally able to give in to the pull at his eyelids and ignore the new aches all over his body. Gluttony’s fingers in his hair are familiar―wet, hot, sticky―and it lulls Sloth just that much quicker. And maybe the smile on his lips is all his own.

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh drop a kudo if you liked it or want to see more of the sins bc im definitely invested in the au at this point


End file.
